The following is an eclectic soundtrack to my life. These songs play over and over in my head every single day.

Enjoy.

We Found Love In A Hopeless Place (Rihanna) Every time I hear this song I think of meeting my husband in the frat house and spending years utterly drunk and stupid. If we ever decide to renew our vows, we are totally doing it to this song. How we ever made it out (alive) and still together I will never know. I suppose miracles do happen.

Who Let The Dogs Out (Baha Men) The twins have an iron gate serving as a door to their bedroom…and their toddler freedom. When I spring them from their no-nap prison this song plays in my head…except I replace dogs with twins.

Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore (REO Speedwagon) This is the anthem that plays in my muddled mom brain as I pour a cocktail in the chaos of my life. I succumb.

Wrecking Ball (Miley Cyrus) I got pregnant and those kids plowed straight through this bod like a herd of blonde wrecking balls. My tummy is mush, there are stretchmarks in all kinds of places that I care not to think about and my boobs having turned to pancakes. Consider this bod decimated.

Bulls On Parade (Rage Against The Machine) So Lately I have been “training” the twins to hold my hand and walk into the elementary school to pick their sisters up. It isn’t going well. They tear away from me, they scream, they lie face down on the sidewalk and pout because mean mommy will not allow them to run into the road and die. When we finally get to the school doors and they barrel into the building- Bulls On Parade plays in my head.

So Whatcha Want (Beastie Boys) No seriously…what do you want. Just tell me what you have been whining about for twelve straight hours in a language that resembles English but is far more challenging to decipher. Do you want a cheese stick? Peppa Pig? A PONY? What on EARTH will make you happy kids? I am just about all out of guesses.

Can’t Touch This (MC Hammer) For real kids- don’t touch my stuff. Stop it. Not everything is yours by default. Just because we shared a body doesn’t mean what is mine is yours. The cell phone is mine – not your personal YouTube television. Nail polish, make up, mine, mine, mine! While we are on the subject of touching – leave my battered and tired body alone. No more hanging on me, poking my flabby stomach, or climbing over my nearly lifeless body. This goes for you as well husband – I am tired…you can’t touch this, mommy time!

What A Wonderful World (Louis Armstrong) Ya know what – they DO drive me nuts…all of them…all day long…but they are my humans and as long as I have them it truly is a wonderful little world.